Nick was in no mood to play Marla’s ridiculous games. “No. I’m perfectly happy with my living arrangements.”
“That’s too bad.” Marla slowly dragged her eyes to John. “What about you? I’m guessing you’re dying to get away from Christy. Although ... don’t you own that house out by the river? Oh, do you want to sell it? Is Christy putting her foot down? That sounds just like her. She was always a pain to deal with.”
John scowled. “I’m not moving either. Although ... .” He glanced at Nick. “Christy and I haven’t talked about where we’re going to live now that we’re engaged. You don’t think she’s going to make me move, do you?”
Nick shrugged. “It’s not so bad to move.”
“I like my house.”
“Yeah, but it’s not very big. You have a baby on the way. Christy’s house isn’t very big either. Maybe you should buy a different house.”
“I don’t want to give up the family house. It took me far too long to get my hands on it.”
“Then add to it,” Nick suggested. “You have plenty of land.”
John brightened considerably. “Oh, that’s a good idea. I can already picture myself frogging in the river with a little me ... or a little Christy. I hope the little Christy doesn’t boss me around too much.”
Nick snorted, sobering when he realized Marla was glaring at them. “Um ... we’re here for a reason.”
“I should certainly hope so,” Marla said dryly. “I would hate to think that you came here simply because you want to rub it in that you’re both engaged and happy and I’m still looking for love in all the loser places.”
Nick bit back a laugh. Marla was so morose it was almost funny. Almost. They were still looking for a missing girl, he reminded himself. That was his main focus for the day. “We need to know what Chelsea White was doing working for you.”
Whatever she was expecting, that wasn’t it. Marla made a hilarious face. “I don’t understand.”
“Chelsea. She was working for you,” Kreskin pressed. “We saw the emails on her computer.”
“And why were you on her computer?”
“Why are you refusing to answer the question?” Kreskin shot back.
“I’m not. I’m simply curious.”
“Chelsea is missing,” Nick volunteered, keeping his words even. “She didn’t return home last night. Her parents are worried.”
Marla let loose a derisive snort. “She’s eighteen. No one wants to go home when they’re eighteen.”
“Except Chelsea always checked in with her parents.”
“Well, maybe she got tired of checking in.”
Nick’s temper flashed hard and fast. “Marla, Chelsea also worked at Blackstone Greenhouse. That’s the same place Shelby Capshaw worked before she was killed. We’re more than a little worried that Chelsea seems to have fallen off the map.”
Realization dawned and Marla’s cheeks flooded with color. “Oh. I guess that makes sense.”
“Yes, oh.”
“Um ... Chelsea was doing some landscaping work for us,” Marla volunteered, putting her thoughts in order. “I tried to hire Henry, but he wanted too much money. He also said he didn’t have the time to work on a new project. I was surprised because we asked him in February —which was way before he would’ve had to start work so he had plenty of time to get his schedule together — but he was firm he would be busy doing other things.”
“That’s weird but hardly criminal,” John said. “How did Chelsea come to work for you?”
“I was at the high school to give a speech on being an important businesswoman a few weeks ago.”
Nick had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. “Excuse me?”
“An important businesswoman,” Marla repeated, her lip curling. “That’s what I am. I’m a real estate agent and I’m very successful.”
“Sure.” Nick saw no reason to argue. Marla’s ego was always fragile, and derailing her now would cost them time they didn’t have. “How did your conversation with Chelsea come about?”
“She heard me asking the principal if I knew any kids who were looking for work. She volunteered.”
“And she was doing all the work herself? Some of the bushes out there look pretty big ... and where did she get the equipment to trim them?”
“She had different kids with her on various days that she worked. I didn’t pay a lot of attention, other than she was doing a good job and we were paying her far less than we would’ve had to pay Henry.”
“Well, that’s great for you,” Kreskin deadpanned. “How often was Chelsea working here?”
“Not a lot. Fifteen hours a week was her maximum. She had to work around her hours at the greenhouse, but that wasn’t a problem as long as she got everything finished in a timely manner.”
“Did she mention having any problems with the people out there? Maybe a guy who was offering her too much attention.”
“There is no such thing as too much attention from the right guy.” Marla graced Nick with a saucy wink. “Isn’t that true?”
“I’ll have to ask Maddie,” Nick replied pointedly. “She probably has an opinion about it. I hope you’re right because I plan on showering her with attention later.”
“Nice,” Kreskin drawled, shaking his head. “That doesn’t make me feel uncomfortable at all.”
“I find it kind of funny,” John admitted. “It’s not important to what we’ve got going on now, though. We need more information about Chelsea. You have to know some of the kids she was hanging around with, Marla.”
“I don’t. I wish I could help you. I was simply too busy to look at them.”
“She means she was too caught up in herself to bother,” Nick muttered. “You said she had kids helping her. Where did she find them?”
Marla shrugged. “I don’t know. I think she found them at the greenhouse. That was my understanding, anyway. They all moonlit together. I paid Chelsea and she doled out the funds.”
“Were the people helping her boys or girls?”
“Um ... both.”
“What about Harris Bishop?” Nick asked, working on a hunch. “Was he one of the ones offering an extra hand?”
“Harris Bishop? Oh, you mean Dustin’s older brother,” Marla said. “Yeah, he was out here a time or two. I was worried at first – he’s a little older and I thought he might start some trouble – but he seemed to be a hard worker. He’s hot, too. I’ve been considering asking him out.”
“You’re older than him,” John pointed out.
“I look way younger than my age.”
John arched an eyebrow. “Who told you that?”
“And I’m done talking to you.” Marla held up a hand, irritation wafting off her in waves. “As for Chelsea, I’m sorry she’s missing. I don’t know what to tell you, though. I never saw anyone acting suspiciously while they were working here. I’m sorry.”
“Well, thanks for your time.” Nick waited until they were back in the parking lot to speak again. “We can’t take anything Marla says at face value. She paid zero attention to Chelsea. She only cared that she had cheap labor.”
“Do you believe her about Harris helping?” Kreskin asked.
“Yeah. I also believed her when she said she was considering asking him out. She’s a bit desperate sometimes.”
“We don’t know Harris has anything to do with this,” John pointed out. “He could be innocent. Simply because his brother was a bad kid, that doesn’t mean Harris is. I don’t know him well — or at all really — but I’ve never heard a bad tale about him.”
“I haven’t either, but I don’t know where else to look,” Nick said. “I think we have no choice but to head back out to the greenhouse. We need to know if any of those kids saw Chelsea yesterday.”
“Then that’s what we’ll do.” Kreskin was matter-of-fact. “I don’t know if Chelsea is voluntarily missing or has been kidnapped, but I’ve got a bad feeling about this one.”
Nick didn’t say
it out loud, but he silently agreed. He was terrified they were already too late.
Fifteen
Henry wasn’t happy when he realized three cops were darkening his doorstep. In fact, the curse he uttered despite the customers frequenting the greenhouse was loud enough that it echoed throughout the space.
“What do you want?” He stalked straight to them and planted his hands on his hips. “Seriously, what do you want this time?”
Since it wasn’t the first time he’d been yelled at over the course of his long career, Kreskin remained calm in the face of the man’s fury. “We need to discuss one of your workers.”
“I’ve already told you everything I know about Shelby.”
“We’re not here about Shelby.”
Henry was taken aback. “What do you mean? If you’re not here about Shelby, who are you here for?”
“Chelsea White.”
Henry blinked several times in rapid succession. “Chelsea? She’s not on the schedule today.”
“Since that was one of our questions, I’ll thank you for answering it,” Kreskin said. “We have other questions, though.”
“What questions?”
Kreskin glanced around the greenhouse, internally cringing at some of the curious looks that were being lobbed in their direction. It was obvious the news of Chelsea going missing hadn’t yet spread through town. Kreskin was hopeful things would remain that way because the last thing they needed was for residents to panic.
“It would be better if we could take this outside,” Nick interjected, keeping his voice low. “This isn’t a conversation we should have in front of an audience.”
“Oh, geez.” Henry’s face twisted, but he acquiesced and followed the three police officers out the front door, leading them to a spot at the east side of the parking lot so they could talk without having to worry that someone was eavesdropping. “Is she dead?” He seemed resigned to the thought.
“She’s simply missing right now,” Nick replied. “Her parents came into the station and reported that she’s not answering her phone and never came home last night.”
“That doesn’t necessarily mean anything,” Henry hedged. “She’s eighteen. Maybe she found a boyfriend and is staying with him or something.”
“That’s certainly possible,” Kreskin agreed. “The thing is, her phone last pinged on the nearest cell tower out here. That was yesterday around seven. There’s been no activity on it since, which means it’s switched off and not simply dormant.”
“She worked a shift yesterday,” Henry offered. “I will have to look to make sure, but I think she got off at six.”
“Just because her phone pinged at this particular cell tower, it doesn’t mean she was at the greenhouse,” John pointed out. “She could’ve been out at that party spot Nick mentioned ... or maybe hanging around with some kids who live in this area. Do any of your workers live close to the farm?”
The look Henry shot John was withering. “I don’t know. I’m not their father. I’m their boss.”
John held his hands up in mock capitulation and made a face. “Okay. Don’t get all ... old guy crotchety or anything. I was simply asking a question.”
Henry exhaled heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose, as if leading himself through a specific calming ritual. “I didn’t mean to yell. It’s just ... if Chelsea ends up dead, that will be it for this place. I know that sounds terrible, being worried about myself when she could be in danger, but if two girls who work here go missing, people won’t come back. They’ll be too afraid that there’s a killer working here.”
“And since your nephew is a killer and his partner worked here, you can’t take a second blow,” John mused. “I get it.”
“I don’t happen to believe my nephew was a killer.” Henry was firm, as if daring John to argue the point with him.
John being John, he never met an argument he didn’t want to engage in. “Well, I happen to believe the walking angel who was almost killed by your nephew. She was the one who almost drowned in the lake, in case you’ve forgotten. Her word holds more clout with me.”
“Oh, whatever.” Disgusted, Henry threw his hands in the air. “Did you come out here to give me a hard time about what happened in court today? I wasn’t even there. I couldn’t leave the greenhouse and sit through it. I only heard everything secondhand.”
“You heard what secondhand?” Nick asked, suspicious.
“About what happened with Todd and Maddie.”
Nick’s heart skipped a beat, but he managed to maintain an air of serenity. “And that would be?”
Sensing trouble, Kreskin held up a hand to still Nick. “Don’t freak out about whatever he says.”
Henry, eyebrows knit, finally puzzled things out. “Oh, you don’t know what happened this afternoon, do you? It seems your girlfriend isn’t the trustworthy angel your brother happens to believe.”
It took every ounce of reserve he had for Nick to refrain from grabbing Henry by the front of his shirt. “What happened in court today?”
“Your girlfriend made a scene, lied to the judge about Todd trying to touch her or something,” Henry sputtered, clearly sensing the fury vibrating through Nick’s tall frame. “She made such a huge scene that now Todd has to be shackled in court. It wasn’t enough that she lied about him. Now she has to take away his last shred of dignity.”
Nick didn’t believe the story for a second. That didn’t mean he wasn’t angry with Maddie for forgetting to update him on certain tidbits. “If your nephew ever lays a hand on Maddie again, being shackled in front of people is going to be the least of his problems,” he warned, his eyes flashing dark. “As for Chelsea, we need to know if she was hanging with any of her co-workers last night. That means we need to speak to as many of them as we can ... right now.”
“And what happens if I say no?” Henry challenged, defiant. “I don’t have to let you question my workers. I have rights.”
“You certainly do,” Kreskin agreed. “If you refuse to let us speak to your workers, we’ll move to the end of the driveway and park on county land. There we will proceed to stop every vehicle arriving and departing ... and we’ll make sure they know they’re being inconvenienced because you refused to let us talk to your workers.”
“I’m sure the fact you won’t help us find a missing girl will be of interest to them,” John added.
Henry was caught. Everyone knew it. “Fine.” He hissed out a breath. “I don’t like what you’re doing here, but it’s obvious I have no choice.”
“We’ll be quick,” Kreskin promised. “We’re looking for a young woman. We’re not trying to needlessly upend your business.”
“Then why does it feel exactly the opposite?”
“Maybe you have a persecution complex,” John suggested.
“And maybe you should shut up,” Henry shot back.
John’s smirk was mischievous as he met his brother’s gaze. “I don’t know why others think I’m not a people person.”
“It boggles the mind,” Nick said dryly.
NICK HAD MANAGED TO TAMP down his irritation and rein in his urge to lock Maddie in the house until he was certain no outside forces could touch her by the time he returned home well after dark ... but just barely.
He expected to find Maddie working in the store — she’d made progress packing up the merchandise, but she had a long way to go — but it was empty. Instead, he followed his nose to the kitchen where Maddie was making sandwiches.
“Oh, I’m so glad you’re home.” Maddie beamed at him in such a way that some of the tension weighing down the back of his neck melted away. “I was trying to wait for you to eat, but my stomach was growling so loudly I wasn’t sure how much longer I could hold out.”
Nick stared at her for a long beat. When he finally spoke, the words that escaped weren’t what he expected. “You made sandwiches?”
“It’s too hot to cook, but I made potato salad and Italian combo sandwiches. I know they’re your favori
te.”
“You’re my favorite,” he murmured as he moved behind the counter and pulled Maddie in for a hug. Everything that felt wrong about his day vanished as she wrapped herself around him. “I love you, Maddie.”
The earnest tone of his voice caused Maddie to tilt her head up and stare into his eyes. “I love you, too. Is something wrong?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know if something is wrong?”
“I’m kind of angry,” he admitted, brushing her flaxen hair away from her face. “I kind of want to yell at you.”
“At me?” Maddie’s eyebrows flew up her forehead. “Why would you want to yell at me? I’m an angel.”
He almost laughed. Almost. The fact that she echoed John’s words from earlier was an odd comfort. “Did something happen in court today?”
“Oh, that.” Maddie pulled back and nodded as she pressed her lips together. “Yeah. Granny might have accidentally hit the defense attorney in the groin. It wasn’t on purpose. Okay ... it was a little on purpose. He was being a jerk, though.”
Very rarely did Nick find himself flabbergasted. “What?”
“The bailiff sided with us. Granny didn’t get arrested or anything.”
Slowly, Nick moved his hands to Maddie’s shoulders and gave them a light squeeze. “Love, perhaps we should start at the beginning. Tell me what happened in court.”
If Maddie found the request strange, she didn’t show it. Instead, she launched into her tale — leaving nothing out — and when she was done, Nick wasn’t sure if he should laugh or curse.
“So, basically you’re saying that Todd tried to touch you and Maude physically abused the defense attorney,” he said finally.
“Pretty much.”
“Huh.” He kept his hands busy on her shoulders. “Well, I don’t know what to make of that. I need some time to think things over.”
“You should eat while you’re thinking.”
“That sounds like a plan.”
They carried the sandwiches and potato salad to the table, wordlessly sitting next to one another, their knees touching. Nick shoveled in four huge forkfuls of potato salad before he found his voice again. “Henry knew about the thing in the courthouse. He told me ... and that’s why I was angry.”
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